


Already Home

by searchingwardrobes



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Killian having nightmares, Married Life, Song Lyrics, a tiny bit of angst that ends in fluffiness, daddy killian, mommy emma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-11 22:37:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7910278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/searchingwardrobes/pseuds/searchingwardrobes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian Jones and his daughter both have nightmares, and he soothes her back to sleep. The next morning, we see a sweet and fluffy breakfast with the family Jones a la the end of the episode "Going Home."</p><p>Nominated for best one-shot in the 2016 Captain Swan Fan Fiction awards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Already Home

**Author's Note:**

> * This was originally a chapter in my multi-chapter fic The Last Battle. But I re-worked it as a one shot because I know some fans only read one shots (I used to be one of them). And I think most everyone in the fandom wants to see the Jones family at breakfast like we saw Emma and Henry in "Going Home."  
> * The story opens with a dream sequence (or nightmare sequence?), so don't be confused. It starts out a little angsty, but don't worry, there's plenty of fluff ahead!  
> * The song lyrics are from "Come Away With Me" by Norah Jones, "Every Little Thing She Does is Magic," by The Police, the theme song to the TV show "Sofia the First," and "Love Song" by The Cure. The final song I have given in its entirety: "Dream" by Priscilla Ahn. It's not a well known song, but one of my favorites. You should go listen to it! I thought it was perfect for Emma.

_The jungles of Neverland had a way of closing in on a person. It was always oppressively humid, and the hue in the air cast an indescribable pall over everything. Though there was a daytime and a night, it was difficult to distinguish between the two. Dismal day faded languidly and blended into terrifying night. Time, of course, had no meaning here._

_Hook’s crew preferred to stay on board ship, and he could feel the nervousness of the men as they made their way cautiously through the dark green foliage. Pan had specifically stated that the entire crew must be present. Hook was no fool; he knew this had to be one of Pan’s games. But if it held the slightest chance of setting him and his crew free from Pan’s servitude, Hook had to risk it. Not only so he could pursue his revenge, but to prevent a mutiny. His men wanted away from this wretched place, and not just when Pan allowed it. Pirates, after all, were supposed to be free._

_Hook sensed they were no longer alone. He stopped and raised his hand, signaling his crew to be on alert. Sure enough, the men were suddenly surrounded by lost boys. Everyone, pirates and lost boys alike, were eerily silent as Pan strode into the small clearing, coming toe to toe with the Captain._

_“I’ve considered your request,” stated Pan, with his typical air of narcissism._

_“Let me guess,” Hook cut him off, “you are disinclined to acquiesce to my proposal.”_

_“You have so little faith in me, Captain,” Pan replied, shaking his head with mock disappointment. “I know how you feel about being bound to anything. Yet, this is my island. I can’t have people thinking they can just come and go as they please.”_

_“So we are at an impasse.”_

_“Indeed,” the smile that graced Pan’s face let Hook know that the little imp was, again, ready to play. The trouble with Pan’s games was that he never played fair._

_“Enough with the word games, Pan. What must I do to free myself and my crew of this bloody place?”_

_“But I do so love games. And this one is simple. Your best fighter against mine. No magic. No dreamshade. Just steel against steel. If a pirate wins, you’re free to go. If a lost boy wins, you are trapped here forever.”_

_Hook’s eyes scanned the faces of his crew. Good form demanded that he alone could fight this battle. He shrugged out of his leather duster and pulled his sword from its scabbard. He saw the faces of his crew brighten; they had that much faith in him. Yet the cost was high. There were few who could match Hook’s skills with a sword, but lost boys fought dirty. He turned to Pan._

_“I’ll accept on one condition. If I lose, only I am bound here. My crew is free regardless of the outcome.”_

_Pan gave him a mocking look. “Oh, good form and all that, right? Fine, agreed.”_

_Hook quickly schooled his startled expression at how easily Pan had agreed. There was something Pan wasn’t telling him, but there wasn’t time to dwell on that as the lost boy chosen for the dual stepped into the clearing. Ruffio. Hook wasn’t surprised._

_“Oh,” Pan casually tossed over his shoulder, “it’s a dual to the death. Did I forget to mention that?”_

_Hook could tell by the color that suddenly drained from Ruffio’s face, that Pan hadn’t mentioned it to him, either. Ruffio quickly recovered, and began circling Hook, sword poised. A cocky and sadistic smile spread across his face._

_“Seems unfair to fight an old man like you,” Ruffio scoffed._

_Hook just grinned. “You mean experienced.”_

_Hook lunged forward and then both of them were too busy in their swordplay for banter. Hook had to admit, Ruffio was good. At first, the only sound was steel clanging against steel, but as the battle progressed, both sides began chanting. “Ruffio! Ruffio!” called the lost boys, pounding their staffs rhythmically in the dirt. Not to be outdone, the pirates shouted, “Hook! Hook! Hook!” while thumping their fists against their thighs. As expected, Ruffio played dirty. But Hook was a pirate; two could play that game. Finally, Hook found himself standing over Ruffio, the tip of his sword to the lost boy’s chest. “Run him through!” shouted his crew._

_But Hook paused. This was the end. Ruffio was on the ground, his back against a rock, his sword under the heel of Hook’s boot. But suddenly Hook really looked into the boy’s face. He was but 16. Hook remembered when he was 16, starting out in the royal navy. Ruffio’s face reminded him of his own back then; full of doubt and fear. Above all, Hook saw that Ruffio was afraid to die._

_“I said to the death, Hook!” Pan shouted, voice laced with a psychotic eagerness for blood. Hook saw Ruffio glance at his leader, his idol, with a mixture of horror and betrayal. “Or has the infamous Captain Hook gone soft?”_

_Suddenly, Pan materialized by Hook’s side. “And if he’s gone soft, his crew will see he is not fit to lead.” Hook pulled his sword back, arm trembling. “Kill him!” Pan shouted again._

_With a strangled cry, Hook ran his sword through Ruffio’s heart. The cheers of his crew drowned out the boy’s final death cry, yet it reverberated in Hook’s heart._

_“No!” a voice screamed from the depths of the jungle. A blur of pink taffeta and golden hair flew past Hook. The girl, only about 14, flung herself at Ruffio’s body. She sobbed over his prostrate form. Lost boys and pirates alike watched silently. Even Pan was speechless._

_The blonde turned her tear-stained face towards Hook, anguish in her sea-green eyes. “How could you, Killian?”_

_Dread filled Hook’s heart. “Who –who are you?”_

_“A lost girl.”_

_Hook dropped his sword from his trembling hand. “Emma?”_

_“Killian, how could you?”_

_Killian looked down at Emma and Ruffio, his heart breaking and shame filling him. But it was no longer Ruffio lying on the ground bleeding out, it was a young Baelfire. And then it was Henry. Killian felt a tug on his hand and looked down into another tear-stained face. This one had blue eyes, the same shade as his own, and dark curls tumbling down her back._

_“Daddy, how could you?”_

Killian awoke from the dream with a start, his body drenched in sweat, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He looked over at Emma’s side of the bed, relieved to see her sleeping peacefully. He slipped soundlessly from the bed, not wishing to wake her.

These nightmares were a regular occurrence. Not every night, but often enough that there was a routine. His past sins and regrets played in his head on a continual loop in the form of nightmares. And always, his wife or children or both were there to witness them. Scrubbing the sleep from his eyes, Killian headed down the stairs. In the darkness, he stepped on a toy and hopped in pain to the light switch.

“Bloody Legos,” he murmured as light flooded the kitchen. He shuffled to the Keurig machine, running his hand through his hair. Killian leaned against the counter as he waited for the machine to warm up. The coffee had just drizzled into his mug when he heard soft crying and little feet padding down the stairs. Rubbing her eyes and clutching a stuffed Paschal toy, a five year old girl with wavy black hair and bright blue eyes shuffled to her father.

“I had a bad dream,” Elsa whimpered.

Killian knelt down to her level, wiping the tears from her eyes with the pad of his thumb. “I’m sorry, princess. Do you want to tell me about it?”

“I was in a jungle,” she explained, stumbling and hiccupping as she told her tale. “I – I was r-running. There were boys . . . they were chasing me. They had st-sticks. Poison sticks.”

Killian sighed as he gathered his little girl in his arms. Every time he had a nightmare, this happened. Moments later, Elsa would awaken too, crying that she had a bad dream. The nightmares were never exactly the same as Killian’s, but they always had the same setting. Elsa Jones dreamt of terrifying things in realms she had never seen. Even before she could talk, she would awaken crying and in terror anytime Killian had a nightmare. Emma and Killian didn’t know what to think of it, but somehow Elsa had a special connection to her father. Elsa possessed magic, so it wouldn’t be surprising if she could somehow sense her father’s intense dreams.

Elsa clung to her father, burrowing her face in his neck. Killian’s heart broke as her tears wet his skin. Once the crying stopped, she whispered, “Dance me, Daddy?”

This was part of the routine, too. Killian scooped Elsa up in his arms, swinging her once through the air. She gave a small giggle that healed Killian’s heart just a little. Then she wrapped her little legs around Killian’s waist and wrapped her little arms once more around his neck. Killian reached over to where his iPod was docked on the kitchen counter. Every time, it was the same song.

_Come away with me in the night_

_Come away with me_

_And I will write you a song_

              As Kilian swayed with his daughter to the music, he heard the sound of more footsteps on the stairs. Emma leaned against the banister at the bottom of the stairs and watched her husband and daughter, a smile gracing her sleepy face.

_I want to wake up to the rain_

_Falling on a tin roof_

_While I’m safe here in your arms_

              Killian turned so that Elsa was facing Emma. Then he silently mouthed the question, “Is she asleep?” Emma nodded and Killian headed for the stairs. Emma turned off the music and the kitchen light and followed him up. She stood in the doorway as he gently laid Elsa back in her bed, tucking the blankets around her and placing a kiss to her forehead. It wasn’t until the door closed behind them in the master bedroom that Emma spoke.

              “You can’t keep doing this, Killian.”

              He looked up at Emma, feigning ignorance. “What? The nightmares? It’s not like either of us can help it.”

              “I’m not talking about the nightmares,” Emma said pointedly as they both climbed into bed. “I’m talking about dancing her back to sleep. Neither one of you is getting enough sleep this way. You need to be firm. Just kiss her, tell her we’re down the hall, and leave her in her bed.”

              Killian sighed, running his hand down his face. “It isn’t hurting anything, Emma. She’s scared. Besides, it’s my –“

              Emma cut him off before he could finish. “It is NOT your fault. And while we are on the subject of your needless guilt, if you would just forgive yourself, you wouldn’t even be having all these nightmares. You’re daughter adores you just as you are. She actually thinks it’s pretty cool that you’re Captain Hook. We’ve all forgiven you; why can’t you forgive yourself?”

              “Don’t you dare tell me to go to Dr. Hopper again,” groaned Killian.

              “Well,” Emma argued, turning on her side, “it’s not a bad idea.”

              Killian shook his head firmly, his lips set in a thin line. Emma propped her head up on her hand, and bit her lower lip tentatively. “I think I know why you’re having more nightmares lately.”

              “Don’t say it!” Killian huffed, putting his pillow over his face. Emma snatched the pillow away from him.

              “Yes, Killian, you have to face the facts. Our daughter is starting kindergarten next week.”

              “About that,” Killian began, propping himself up on his elbows, “are you sure she’s ready for kindergarten?”

              Emma rolled her eyes and punched Killian in the stomach with the pillow. He gave a little oomph sound then frowned at Emma with his best puppy dog eyes. “But what if her teacher is too hard on her?” he continued.

              Emma snorted with laughter. “Killian, her teacher is freakin’ _Cinderella._ You know, the princess who befriends mice and has birds help her get dressed in the morning? I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

              “Well . . . what about the kids then? What if they make fun of her for having a father who’s a pirate?”

              “Who’s gonna tease her, Killian? Grumpy the _dwarf’s_ son? Or maybe Peter the pumpkin eater’s kid? ‘Cuz your dad putting your mom in a pumpkin shell isn’t weird at _all.”_

              Emma sighed as she looked down at her husband. He was clenching his jaw so hard, she was afraid he would break a tooth. She rubbed his shoulder a few times before speaking again.

              “Ok, Killian, I’ll drop this particular subject for the moment.” Emma cuddled up against his side before speaking again. “But can you at least agree to drop the midnight dances?”

              She felt Killian tense beneath her, then she could practically _feel_ his smug grin. “Ok, Swan, I’ll stop the midnight dances with Elsa.” There was a long pause. _Uh-oh._ “If you’ll drop your 6 am nursing with Liam.”

              “What!” Emma sat bolt upright.

              Killian sat up too. “You heard me.”

              “But – but” Emma sputtered.

              Killian raised his hand before she could start to argue. “You were emphatic with Elsa that she be weaned at a year. Liam is 18 months old already.”

              Emma crossed her arms indignantly. “It is perfectly acceptable to nurse an 18 month old. It’s not like he’s 3, Killian.”

              “Emma, the other day you had to _wake him up_.”

              Emma frowned. “But it’s our special time. We sit on the porch and watch the sun come up over the water. And – and – he’s my last baby.”

              Killian raised an eyebrow and gave her a smug grin. “And midnight dances are _our_ special time. Either you drop Liam’s morning feeding, or I don’t drop the dances.”

              Emma glared at Killian for a pregnant moment, then flopped onto her back with a humph. “Fine!” she muttered. “You can keep dancing Elsa back to sleep.”

              She rolled over onto her side, stewing just a little that absolutely nothing about Killian and Elsa had been resolved. Emma wanted to be mad at him, just a little bit. But then he was pulling her close and kissing her neck, and well . . . it was just so damn hard to stay mad at him.

                            *****************************************************

              Music once again filled the Jones family kitchen, but this time, sun was beginning to stream through the windows, and the tune was upbeat. Henry shuffled into the kitchen, yawning loudly. Killian handed him a mug of hot chocolate, neither of them having to say a word. Henry took the can of whipped cream out of the fridge.

              “Where’s the cinnamon?”

              Killian paused in stirring the pancake batter to toss the spice bottle to Henry. Killian swayed to the music as Henry rolled his eyes.

_Every little thing she does is magic_

_Everything she do just turns me on_

_Even though my life before was tragic_

_Still my love for her goes on_

              Elsa came bounding down the stairs and scrambled onto one of the bar stools. She leaned over to better see what her father was doing.

              “Pancakes?”

              “Aye love,” Killian answered with concern in his voice. “Don’t lean too far over the griddle, you’ll burn your nose.”

              “Can we have chocolate chip ones?”

              “As you wish, princess.”

              Elsa grinned in delight and scrambled off the stool and into the living room. She picked up the remote and chose a cartoon on Netflix. The theme song to her cartoon battled with the music from the kitchen.

_I was a girl in the village doin’ all right_

_Then I became a princess over night_

**_Ask her if she’ll marry me_ **

**_In some old-fashioned way_ **

              Henry reached over and turned off the ipod. “Mom said we could only have chocolate chip pancakes for special occasions.”

              Killian grinned at Henry. “It is a special occasion. You’re heading back to college today.”

              “Not today!” protested Elsa.

              “Sorry kid,” Henry said, going over to tousle her unruly black curls, “but classes start on Monday at NYU.”

              “Henry, take this hot chocolate out to your mother. She’s out on the front porch nursing Liam” Killian said, handing a mug to the boy who was now as tall as he was.

              “Sure thing.”

              Killian had just flipped the final batch of pancakes onto a plate when Emma came inside with the baby. She handed Liam to Killian, grabbed the plate of pancakes, and told Elsa to turn off the TV so she could help set the table. They were like a well-oiled machine. Killian blew raspberries on Liam’s chubby cheeks, making the baby squeal. Liam then proceeded to lift his father’s hook to his mouth to chew on the curve of the metal.

              “Teething again, aye?” Killian chuckled as he deposited his son into his high chair.

              Elsa turned off her cartoon and dashed into the kitchen. She hit play on the iPod then turned to carry glasses of juice that Henry was filling. Without even thinking about it, everyone started singing along while moving about the kitchen.

_Whenever I’m alone with you_

_You make me feel like I am home again_

_Whenever I’m alone with you_

_You make me feel like I am whole again._

              Emma placed syrup, butter, and a bowl of fresh berries on the table. Elsa finished setting the orange juice on the table, sloshing a bit on Killian’s hook in her haste. Killian just chuckled and offered the sticky metal to Liam, who shook his head and started banging on the tray of his high chair.

              “Bey-beys! Bey-beys!” Liam cried, which was toddler-speak for berries. Killian chuckled again and sprinkled the high chair tray with blueberries, which Liam squashed in two chubby fists before cramming them into his mouth.

_However far away_

_I will always love you_

_However long I stay_

_I will always love you_

_Whatever words I say_

_I will always love you_

_I will always love you_

              Elsa skipped around the table placing forks at each plate, singing at the top of her lungs. Killian sang too as he finished cutting strawberries into bite sized pieces, and gave them to the baby. Emma hummed as she set her and Henry’s mugs of hot chocolate beside their plates. They were all just sitting down when there was a knock at the door.

              “Are we expecting someone?” asked Henry.

              Emma smiled knowingly. “Go see.”

              Henry turned off the iPod and went to open the door. “Mom!” Henry hugged Regina and ushered her inside.

              Emma smiled. “I know Regina’s helping you move back into the dorms, but I thought she might like to join us for our good-bye breakfast, too.”

              “And though I was invited, it seems I’m still way over-dressed,” Regina smoothed her hand down the front of her navy pantsuit, and looked around at the Jones clan with raised eyebrows. “Nice pajamas, Captain.”

              Killian just grinned at Regina and winked. He was wearing black pajamas that said “I know” across the front in white letters while Emma wore white pajamas that said “I love you” across the front in black letters.

              “Aren’t they awesome!” Henry enthused. “Christmas present from me and Elsa.”

              Elsa stood up on her chair to give Henry a fist pump across the table. “Nailed it!” she crowed, which sent the adults into hysterics. Liam clapped his hands and laughed even though he had no idea what was so funny.

              “Aunt Regina, look at my pajamas!” the five year old girl continued.

              Regina knelt in front of Elsa’s chair as the little girl pulled her nightgown straight so she could see. “Oh, it’s Tangled!” Regina enthused. “There’s Rapunzel, and Flynn Rider, and . . . what’s the chameleon’s name again?”

              “Paschal!”

              Regina smiled and bopped Elsa on the nose with her finger. “Right!”

              “Sit next to me, Aunt Regina!” Elsa exclaimed, scrambling into her father’s lap and scooting her plate over to make room.

              “Oh-okay,” Regina said, sitting down in the offered chair.

              The remainder of breakfast passed far too quickly, and soon it was time to tell Henry good-bye. His Celica was already packed from floorboard to roof, and Regina had more in her car. Even though it was his sophomore year, Emma still teared up when she hugged him good-bye. They stood in front of their white picket fence until both cars rounded a corner out of sight.

              Emma and Killian went back inside with the little ones to clean up from breakfast. It was more subdued than setting the table had been, but Elsa’s bright chatter helped make up for Henry’s absence. Once the kitchen was clean, they decided to get dressed, load up the car, and head to the docks. It was a beautiful day, and a day of sailing aboard the Jolly Roger would lift all their spirits. Elsa cheered as she dashed up the stairs to change out of her pajamas.

              “I’ll change this little lad,” Killian told Emma as he scooped up their son.

              “Killian, wait,” Emma called. He turned to see her still standing in the kitchen.

              “What?” he asked.

              She smiled and tipped her head. “Just come here.”

              Killian did as she asked, first setting Liam down in the living room with some blocks.

              “Dance me?” Emma asked, a playful smile on her lips.

              Killian smiled back. He wrapped his arms around Emma’s waist. She reached over and hit play on the iPod before snaking her arms around his neck.

              “Listen to the words of this song, Killian,” Emma whispered as they swayed to the music.

_I was a little girl alone in my little world_

_Who dreamed of a little home for me_

_I played pretend between the trees_

_And fed my house guests bark and leaves_

_And laughed in my pretty bed of green_

_I had a dream_

_That I could fly from the highest swing_

_I had a dream_

_Long walks in the dark through woods grown behind the park_

_I asked God who I’m supposed to be_

_The stars smiled down on me_

_God answered in silent reverie_

_I said a prayer and fell asleep_

_I had a dream_

_That I could fly from the highest tree_

_I had a dream_

              There was a pause in the lyrics of the song when there was only music. Emma leaned back to look deeply into Killian’s eyes, “All my life, I dreamed of a home, Killian. You’ve given me that. I’m living my happy ending. Please don’t hold onto the past anymore.”

_Now I’m old and feeling gray_

_I don’t know what’s left to say about this life I’m willing to leave_

_I’ve lived it full and I’ve lived it well_

_There’s many tales I’ve lived to tell_

_I’m ready now, I’m ready now_

_I’m ready now to fly from the highest wing_

_I had a dream_

              As the music faded out, Killian mulled over the words of the song. He had spent so long in Neverland, where time didn’t exist. But here, with his family, living his happy ending with Emma and their children, time marched steadily forward. He didn’t want to waste it dwelling on his past. As Killian Jones bent to kiss his wife, he thought that maybe, tonight, there would be no nightmares. Maybe, tonight, he would dream.


End file.
